


Coach Tachibana

by jumpinglamps



Category: Free!, makoharu - Fandom
Genre: M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, Smut, Spoilers, coach tachibana, harumakotokyo, if you haven't finished eternal summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 06:51:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2572163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jumpinglamps/pseuds/jumpinglamps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Makoto and Haru take a little time to relax from their busy lives in Tokyo (and end up exploring some new sexy things).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coach Tachibana

**Author's Note:**

> Second ever fan fiction! This took a lot longer to write and edit than I anticipated.

Makoto took in a gulp of cool air as he clamored off the train. The ride had felt particularly long this time due to a throng of noisy high school girls keeping him pressed into the door. They didn’t even seem to notice him until he pushed past them to exit, his cheeks coloring from embarrassment as their eyes followed him to the platform.

He adjusted his jacket with a shrug and pushed onward, zigzagging around students and businessmen on the platform. Why did Haru have to live so far away?

While Makoto was thrilled that Haru chose a school in Tokyo to train with, thrilled that he could still see Haru every week, there was always still a small part of him that resented this new distance. The train was always crowded and the ride was always too long, and he couldn’t just pop up a staircase and see Haru’s face when he felt lonely or scared. He could hear Haru’s voice over the phone but it was nothing like actually being there with him, and beyond that, Haru seemed to detest phones – he was never a big talker, so getting him to stay on the line for more than a few minutes was always a challenge.

And still he gladly traveled this distance, reminding himself everyday that this was so much better than the distance to Iwatobi, or worse, Australia. Makoto’s chest still tightened when he thought of Australia, lost his breath as he remembered the moment Haru had told him he had finally found his dream, a dark place in him realizing that it might mean putting an entire ocean between them. He shook his head to dispel the memories, realizing he had forgotten to take his glasses off as they knocked askew on his nose.

He tucked the glasses into his pocket and turned a corner, Haru’s building finally coming into view. The walk felt a little surreal without the weight of his backpack – usually he brought his homework when he met up with Haru, at his apartment or at the ramen restaurant they had discovered their second week in the city, but this time he wanted nothing more than to forget about schoolwork for a day. Today was finally the day for his big midterm in elementary education, and, having spent the last two weeks buried in books and notes preparing for it, he was ready to have a night off.

He stopped in front of Haru’s door, scuffing his feet on the concrete to get any dirt off his shoes. He knocked softly, waiting just a moment before trying the door, calling out as he went, “Haru, I’m coming in.”

A muffled affirmation came from the kitchen as Makoto shuffled inside, making sure to lock the door behind him. He slid out of his shoes and jacket and padded into the kitchen.

“You should really start locking the door,” Makoto washed his hands at the sink, peering over his shoulder. Haru had his apron knotted at the small of his back over a hoodie and sweatpants. He knew that Haru had always resented winter – he hated having to wear something over his jammers.

“There’s no point if you’re coming over,” Haru didn’t look up from the mackerel sizzling on the stovetop in front of him.

Makoto chuckled and flicked his hands dry. “What can I do?”

Haru shook his head, “just go sit at the table, it’ll be done soon.” He only burnt a bit of mackerel once, but Haru had never trusted Makoto in the kitchen again.

With a sigh Makoto made his way to the table, flopping himself down on a cushion. He leaned forward to rest his head on the cool wood, leaving his arms and legs under the kotatsu to get warm. It felt nice after the biting cold outside. The warmth around his arms and legs felt just like Haru did late at night when Makoto wrapped his arms around him, felt his breath and heartbeat slow. He would try to count them, but always ended up drifting off before he could get to ten.

 

He didn’t notice he’d fallen asleep until a gentle hand fell on his shoulder, “Makoto, the futon’s out – go lay down.”

Makoto jolted up and looked around, blinking sleep from his eyes. “Haru? Ah, sorry, I’m awake now – don’t look at me like that, I’m really fine.” Makoto laughed and shrunk back under Haru’s gaze.

Haru persisted for a few more minutes, pinning Makoto to the ground with his eyes, before finally giving up with a huff, “If you’re really fine then eat.” He disappeared into the kitchen and came back with mackerel, a hot pot and an empty bowl.

Makoto noticed with a frown there was only enough for one person. “Did you already eat?”

Haru nodded, “Well you were sleeping so…” his voice trailed off as he looked away.

Makoto’s heart sank. “I’m so sorry, Haru – ” But Haru cut him off with a raised hand and shook his head.

“It’s fine, just eat.” Haru didn’t look angry, but Makoto couldn’t help the weight in his gut, making it hard for him to swallow. He ate anyway, realizing how long it must have taken Haru to prepare everything.

Haru sat and watched him with an elbow on the table, making him feel a little self-conscious. Was he eating weird? But he didn’t look disgusted or angry – just calm. And maybe… something else. But that had to be his imagination; Haru had been training all day, he was probably too tired for all that. It was just wishful thinking.

Makoto’s chopsticks scraped the bottom of his bowl. He moved to take his dishes to the kitchen but Haru snatched them up before he could stand. “Haru, I can – ”

Haru shook his head again and walked off to the kitchen. He called over his shoulder, so soft Makoto almost didn’t catch it, “you can go take a shower if you want.”

Makoto felt a low heat burn the tops of his ears. So he really was looking at him like – he wasn’t imagining it, right? His heart skipped and he fumbled to his feet, off balance for a minute as his leg had fallen asleep after sitting for so long. He popped his head around the corner to look in the kitchen, “Ok I-I’ll just go and um, shower. Um…” The rest of his words were choked back as Makoto spotted a bit of Haru’s cheek, bright red and turned pointedly away.

Makoto hurried off to the bathroom before Haru could turn and see how the heat had spread across his face. He almost fell over in an effort to quickly shed his shirt and jeans simultaneously, laughing a little at himself for thinking he could ever strip like Haru. With a shake of his head he willed himself to not think about Haru stripping and shuffled through the door to the bath.

He switched on the gas to heat the bath and turned on the shower, tilting his head back to feel the warm spray on his face. The back of his neck and scalp prickled, hyper aware of the unlocked door behind him. If he strained his ears a little he could just barely hear the clatter of Haru in the kitchen. The dishes shouldn’t take too long to clean – a shiver rushed up his spine.

A little shaky, he fumbled around and grabbed his shampoo – Makoto noticed Haru had started keeping his favorite brand in the shower a couple of weeks after they moved to Tokyo, but neither of them brought it up. Makoto’s parents had kept Haru’s favorite in their home for years, and Makoto kept up the tradition in his new apartment as well. With how often they seemed to be at Haru’s since the move, Makoto had thought to buy a few things to leave in his apartment as well so he wouldn’t have to keep bringing them with him, but no sooner had the thought crossed his mind than did those very things start to appear. There was an extra, green toothbrush by the sink, an extra large pair of sweatpants in the dresser and a little tin of instant coffee in the kitchen. Each small find warmed him all the way down to his toes, bringing a smile to his face he couldn’t wipe away.

The familiar clean smell of strawberries washed over him as he scrubbed through his hair – he had grown attached to the scent after his mother had bought it for the twins once. He mixed it with a dab of Haru’s shampoo, appreciating the way his scent mixed with the crisp, minty musk.

Makoto jolted to the sound of the bathroom door creaking open and closed somewhere behind him. He had lost track of Haru’s sounds, distracted by silly reminiscence about shampoo. Makoto listened intently now as he scrubbed furiously at the foam on his head, taking note of every rustle and shuffle, every light thud of foot against tile, the jangle and twist of another doorknob.

A cool breeze brought back the Goosebumps on Makoto’s neck and spine as the door was opened and closed behind him. Makoto couldn’t bring himself to turn around – he wanted to, quite badly, but his brain was too preoccupied trying to control the backflips in his stomach. He knew he shouldn’t be this nervous, but the very thought that Haru _wanted_ him, that he had put so much thought into the evening – his stomach coiled appreciatively.

Bracing himself, Makoto flipped around to see Haru hadn’t made it much past the door. He was beautiful; a slight sheen covered his skin from the steam in the room and pinkish red spread from his cheeks down his neck to blotch his chest. Makoto was careful to not let his eyes drift too low, though he couldn’t help but register the lack of swimwear. His heart jumped a little and he smiled, “do you want to shower or just get in the bath? It should be warm by now.”

Haru didn’t respond at first as his eyes surveyed the space, not taking the same care Makoto had to avoid certain areas. Makoto flushed and desperately willed away his excitement.

“…th,” Haru’s voice was too low to be heard over the rushing water.

“Sorry, could you say that again?” Makoto stepped forward to hear him better. Haru huffed and crossed the room, switching off the shower. Silence echoed between them.

“The bath. Let’s get in the bath.” Even whispering, Haru sounded louder than normal.

Makoto’s tense shoulders softened as he noticed the rigidity in Haru’s stance, the way his arms strained and his fists clenched.

“Ok, here.” He lightly took Haru’s hand, easing their fingers together to relax Haru’s fist, and made his way to the tub, sinking in first and leading Haru after him to sit between his legs. Once they were situated, Makoto wrapped his arms around Haru’s chest and guided him back to lie against his chest, breathing a little easier as he felt Haru relax into the gesture.

Warmth slowly enveloped them, building between their bodies and the water and Makoto wondered why he had been so nervous. For a while they seemed to meld together, Haru’s soft form melting into his, and Makoto almost forgot that there weren’t any clothes between them. Or rather, it didn’t matter – his breath and heart beat synced with Haru’s and he could no longer tell where his chest ended and Haru’s back began, or who’s limbs were sticking which direction. It was still quiet, but the lack of sound didn’t bother him anymore. He leaned back and let his eyes slide closed.

Makoto was reluctant to move when the water started to cool but he knew better than to think Haru would get out of the bath without a little urging. He pushed himself up on his elbows, prepared to lift Haru with him, but before he could go further Haru was sitting up on his own, turning around in the tub. Makoto was stunned motionless for a moment, just long enough for Haru to move closer and press their lips together, light and slow.

Too soon, Haru pulled away, and Makoto leaned forward slightly in an attempt to follow. His eyes opened and Haru was staring straight at him, pouring soundlessly into him.

“I love you.” Haru didn’t blink.

Makoto’s heart thrummed a little quicker. “I love you too.” His hands skimmed up the backs of Haru’s thighs, his thumb stopping to rub a small circle just under the soft curve of his bottom. Their lips met again and Makoto pulled Haru a little closer, urging Haru’s lips open with a few taps of his tongue. And their tongues slipped past each other, tangling together and retreating, then tangling again. They separated only when Makoto pulled back, Haru swaying forward this time to follow.

“Should we go to bed?” Makoto’s finger traced an errant squiggle across Haru’s backside, earning him a shiver. Haru’s eyes diverted and he nodded.

That was all Makoto needed – he slowly rose from the tub, pulling Haru along by the hand. He stopped before the door though, grabbing a towel and pulling it gently around Haru’s shoulders, moving it down to his waist. Haru’s eyes widened for a moment, but he relaxed soon, shifting to help Makoto reach more. Makoto took his time patting Haru dry, taking special care around his hips and thighs. Before he could go any further Haru snatched the towel and pressed it against Makoto’s chest and moving it slowly around to his back. Makoto reddened as Haru reached the base of his spine, inching lower. Makoto snatched the towel back, distracting Haru with a quick kiss before leading them onward again, taking care to hang to towel on their way out.

They half stumbled into Haru’s bedroom, crashing together on the bed in a ball of arms and legs and heat, so much heat. Makoto righted himself over Haru and climbed higher up so they were both completely on the bed, pausing there to breathe. Haru gazed back up at him, chest heaving, his dark hair splayed across the blanket. Makoto leaned down and kissed Haru’s lips, dragging his mouth down to graze his jaw, kiss down the lines of his throat. One hand skimmed up Haru’s side to brush along his chest and start to work on a nipple. Haru arched into his hand, breath leaking out in uneven pants. Makoto tweaked and plucked the hardening bud, nosing along Haru’s neck to kiss and suck at random spots, careful not to linger too long and leave an embarrassing mark. Haru had once refused to kiss him for a week after Makoto accidentally left a dark mark on his collarbone, and the memory made him extra careful now.

While Makoto was preoccupied, Haru’s hands snaked around his waist and pulled, bumping their hips together in a way that made Makoto’s breath come out in a low whine.

“Makoto,” Haru’s hands traced up the lines of his back. Makoto shivered and rolled his hips down again and Haru moaned low in response. “How did your exam go?”

Makoto blinked. _What_? Just as he opened his mouth to ask, Haru spoke again, his words broken between unsteady breaths, “what did you learn – mm – about being a coach?”

Just as Makoto opened his mouth to ask what he meant, Haru gave his hips a roll that peeled a strong shiver up his spine. Did he mean-? Makoto looked down and saw that Haru had gone beat red, his eyes flickering anywhere but into Makoto’s, his lips clamped tightly shut.

Experimentally, Makoto cupped his hands around and under Haru’s back and rocked backward so Haru was brought to his knees, sitting on Makoto’s lap. Haru grabbed Makoto’s shoulders in panic, eyes flying wide.

“Should I be your coach?” Makoto murmured, heat rising a little to the tops of his ears. The words sounded strange but he could see Haru’s arousal growing more prominent by the second, so he continued, running his hands along Haru’s thighs and smoothing them over his backside. Haru leaned forward, hiding his red face in Makoto’s shoulder and wrapping his arms around Makoto’s neck. Makoto skirted along Haru’s shoulder blades with one hand, tilting his head slightly so that his lips were nearly pressed into Haru’s hot ear. “I think I’ve learned enough – we could start training right away.”

Haru’s arms tightened around Makoto’s neck in response, pressing their chests flush against each other. It was embarrassing, this talk, but the way Haru reacted – Makoto wanted more. His finger grazed over the cleft between Haru’s firm cheeks, lingering there to feel Haru shudder against him. “We’ll need the right equipment,” he whispered, circling his finger around his puckered flesh.

Trembling hands pressed down on Makoto’s shoulders as Haru righted himself. Makoto followed his movements with a hovering hand, a little worried by how unsteady he looked. But Haru leaned back with ease to reach the nightstand, fingers blindly opening the drawer and rummaging through it. Makoto had to ball his hands into fists to keep them from running along the muscles rippling with every movement of Haru’s abdomen and chest as he twisted further. He found himself quite distracted by Haru’s knees, tightening their grip around his thighs to keep balanced. And Haru was coming back again, a small bottle of lube and a shiny, wrapped condom in hand. Makoto’s hands moved to the small of Haru’s back to help ease him upright. He wanted to take the lube from Haru’s hand start to work him open, move around inside and feel him shiver and relax, make him feel at ease as he usually did, but he also wanted to explore this – whatever this thing was that Haru had started. It seemed to be making Haru more excited than usual and, well Makoto couldn’t say he wasn’t enjoying it as well.

So instead, he took the lube and squeezed some into his hand, then pulled Haru’s hand up to guide his fingers through the cold slick. Haru’s breath quickened and Makoto’s heart raced to match it. Makoto reached up and grazed Haru’s cheekbones with his thumb, “Can you do it like I’ve shown you before? I’ll help you if you get stuck.”

Haru swallowed thickly and nodded. He leaned forward, bracing himself with a shaky hand on Makoto’s shoulder and hid his face again out of Makoto’s range of vision. The slicked hand reached around and back to his entrance, trembling so much Makoto started to worry.

“Haru, we don’t have to – ” Makoto stopped when he felt Haru’s fingers dig in a little into his shoulder.

With a small shake of his head, Haru murmured, “I’m fine.” Makoto let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in.

“Here, just like this,” he brought one hand around with Haru’s and gently guided it closer while his other hand reached up to rub soft circles across his shoulders and waist. Haru relaxed in his arms a little, his breath evening out against Makoto’s ear. Makoto watched Haru’s finger sink inside and felt him twitch and suck in his breath. He kept up his hand at Haru’s shoulders, circling slowly and pulling him slightly closer in one motion. Oh yeah, coach talk. “Good job, keep at it,” he whispered, noticing the breathy nature his own voice had taken with a slight blush. Makoto’s own length had begun to throb a little painfully, but he resisted the urge to reach down and relieve himself – he wanted to focus completely on Haru, on helping him relax.

Haru’s finger worked a little quicker behind him but he didn’t seem to be making the sounds he usually did at this point. His shoulders tensed, but it didn’t seem like nerves or a good feeling. The grunts that reached Makoto’s ear seemed shorter, agitated, maybe even annoyed.

“You have to hit the right spot – it should be a little further up here,” Makoto’s hand joined Haru’s again, gently tilting it so his fingers were angled up more. A light shiver rushed through Haru’s body as he allowed Makoto to adjust his hand. A little lightheaded, Makoto breathed in the scent from Haru’s hair, noticing a slight change in the way it smelled as it dried. He grazed one finger around Haru’s, feeling how relaxed his entrance was getting. “You could probably add another now,” he whispered, brushing against Haru’s middle finger. Haru gripped Makoto’s shoulder a little tighter as he followed Makoto’s suggestion. Makoto sucked in his breath when he felt Haru’s lips move to the hollow between his shoulder and neck, kissing a little firmer and sloppier than normal. He brushed his fingers along Haru’s length, and Haru’s back arched in response, a little moan pressed into Makoto’s skin. Haru’s fingers moved faster behind him, his breaths puffing quick and uneven from his nose and onto Makoto’s shoulder.

“Don’t forget to stretch it too,” Makoto’s voice shook. He reached one hand up to brace Haru as his movements grew more sporadic. Haru muffled a string of moans into Makoto’s shoulder as he scissored his fingers back and forth behind him. The fingers clutching Makoto’s shoulder starting to clench and release with the waves of Haru’s body, his hips swaying slightly to rock into Makoto’s. Their heat brushed together and a whine escaped Makoto before he could choke it back.

“Am I doing well, Coach Tachibana?” Haru’s voice rattled. Makoto shivered and pressed his nose into the piece of Haru’s neck he could reach.

“Yes,” Makoto breathed, “very well. Do you remember what comes next?” He ran one hand up and down Haru’s side and Haru nodded against his shoulder.

Slowly, Haru pulled his fingers out and righted himself. Makoto’s hands automatically moved to keep him steady, resting on the back of his thighs. He shivered as Haru revealed his face at last, flustered red and dewy, eye brows hitched and pupils blown wide with just a hint of blue still visible around their circumference.

Haru reached off to the side and picked up the condom, his shaky fingers fumbling with the edge of the wrapper. “Here, let me,” Makoto reached up and took it from him gently, willing his hands steady enough to tear it open. He pulled the rubber free and glanced up to meet Haru’s eyes, hooded and locked onto the rubber.

“Do you want to try putting it on?” Makoto breathed. Haru reached up wordlessly and took it from him.

He rested it over Makoto’s length, fingers sifting to find it’s edge. Makoto fought back the trembling in his spine at the contact and reached to steady Haru’s hands, leaning forward to murmur in his ear, “it’s here… right, now move slowly, like that, good work.” Makoto was fully seated in the condom and he found it hard to speak, whispering in Haru’s ear for no better reason than he didn’t think he could form words any louder without losing himself to incoherent moans.

Haru wrapped his arms around Makoto’s neck again, pulling himself forward to push their foreheads together. “Can I keep going, Coach?”

Makoto swallowed and looked into Haru’s eyes. “Please,” his voice was so breathy he wasn’t sure if Haru could even understand him, but he moved as if he had, hoisting himself higher using Makoto’s shoulders and inching closer. Haru lined himself up and locked his gaze with Makoto’s once more, hesitating the span of a breath before he lowed himself.

Makoto squeezed his lips together, unsuccessfully attempting to stifle a low groan as Haru engulfed him. They were quiet for a span but for heavy breaths. Makoto focused on the way Haru’s hands tightened and relaxed on the tops of his shoulders to keep from bucking upward. He rested his own hands on Haru’s hips, careful not to clench too tightly and hurt him, instead letting the tension run into his legs and toes, curling and releasing in time with Haru’s hands.

Then, Haru started to move. He pulled himself up, then lower again, slow and a little shaky, and Makoto started moving his thumbs in slow circles at Haru’s hips, forcing out whispers of encouragement between choked whines.

Everything was… so hot – Haru’s length rubbed against his stomach with every movement, leaving a light, warm stickiness there. Haru himself was a ball of heat, his entire body. Everywhere Makoto touched was on fire, though he tried to keep his hands relatively stationary on Haru’s hips. Haru’s breath was hot as it mingled with Makoto’s between them, and Makoto wondered if he was contributing to this heat too.

He wasn’t sure when Haru started rolling his hips in time with his bounces, or when he started to join in on those rolls, but Makoto loved the way they moved together, loved the way Haru tightened and relaxed around him irregularly, loved the way their bodies lined up into one rhythm, one fluid motion. He could no longer tell which limb was his or who was moving up or down but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except for this.

He breathed out Haru’s name and Haru grunted low in acknowledgment. “Are you close?” Makoto noticed his hands had run away across Haru’s back.

“Mm,” Haru grunted in what sounded like affirmation and started to move faster, sloppier, and Makoto matched him easily. They were a mess of sounds – moans and grunts and names and breaths.

Makoto felt tension coiling tight in his gut and he struggled to pull Haru closer, feeling Haru’s nails digging into his shoulders. Their bodies curled into each other and Makoto couldn’t tell which of them was moaning, couldn’t tell where this heat had come from but it consumed them entirely.

He blinked and felt Haru’s breath even out with his own, neither of them attempting to move. They stayed that way, a warm ball of slow breaths and limbs until Makoto felt Haru relax so completely he thought he might have fallen asleep.

Once Makoto had started to move, Haru stirred as well, lifting his hips enough to set Makoto’s length free before flopping down on the bed. Makoto pulled the rubber off and wiped clean the sticky white stripe Haru had left on his chest before joining him. He threw one arm around Haru’s chest and snuggled himself into his dark hair, leaving no room for air between their warm, sweaty bodies.

“Sorry I couldn’t keep up the game after – well,” Makoto felt his ears heat up.

Haru turned himself over in Makoto’s arms so that they were facing each other and shifted himself up enough to peck Makoto’s lips. “You’re a good coach,” he mumbled, curling his head under Makoto’s chin.

Makoto couldn’t wipe the smile from his face, “Thank you, Haru.” He pulled Haru in tighter and pressed his lips to the top of his head. “I love you,” he murmured, enjoying the warmth that spread across his cheeks.

“Me too.” He felt rather than heard Haru’s response against his collarbone and giggled a little.

Makoto listened quietly for a while, waiting until Haru’s breathing slowed and his arms grew slack. Then he let his eyes droop closed and counted Haru’s breaths, not quite making it to ten before he drifted off too.


End file.
